Vitus Eternus
by dancinglemur
Summary: ROTF Spoilers! Why was the Seeker so eager to sacrifice himself to help this Prime he barely knew?


**AN: **Needless to say, ROTF spoilers. (It was awesome, by the way :D especially in IMAX. Totally worth the headache afterwards.) The tile is Latin and means "Life Eternal". (Because I am horribly uncreative when it comes to thinking up titles, and putting things in Latin makes them sound fancier e.e Or at least more thought-out.)

Beta'd by Oni-Gil (thank you, bb~)

Also: I know this should go in the 07/09 section, but there isn't a "Jetfire" Character option yet, so... I'll just switch it over when I get back from vacation. Hopefully the option will be up by then.

* * *

For a species like theirs, one that was so concerned with _lasting_, with surviving and existing indefinitely, sacrificing your life for another's was not something that was usually practiced.

At least, not among these younger generations.

Jetfire had lived a long, long time. So long that he barely remembered just when, exactly, he had come online. Many other species looked upon them as eternal, everlasting, but the truth was that they only continued to exist in a way worth living as long as they still had the necessary replacement parts available.

And for Jetfire, no matter what disguise he took, his internals remained the same, and what was left of them had been slowly rusting away for millennia. He had no replacement parts – hadn't for a very long time now. His memory was starting to fade as well, little details he would have known even a few centuries before slipping through his fingers like dust. It was why he rambled the way he did, whenever he was awake long enough to get to know people – he had things to say, important things, but he had trouble recalling them, and so he rambled distractedly until he did manage to remember again.

These young bots nowadays didn't understand what they had. Their youth made them arrogant, and they believed they _were _eternal, and most would be hard pressed to find something for which they would give their own lives, Autobot cause or no. When it came down to it, most bots would pick their own spark over another's or any ideal. There were a few, however, who did have something worth dying for: Jetfire had seen it in the way the little yellow scout looked at those two small humans; in the way that one loudmouthed human spoke of his country, his world; and in the way these younglings, these Autobots, thought of their Prime.

The last Prime.

_This_ was something Jetfire would give his life for. To help the last Prime defeat the Fallen. To just be able to see a Prime, a _real _Prime, one last time. When the fleshling boy had mentioned knowing a Prime, he had become so excited – not for the Prime himself, but because, selfishly, the Prime was the means to the end he so desired: a final peace, a stop to this relentless pace he'd forced himself to even though his body could no longer handle it. He searched because the Fallen had built him to search; Prime could kill the Fallen, and therefore end his compulsion to seek.

For all that he had existed longer than even this planet he was on now (Dirt? What kind of name was that for a planet, anyways?), Jetfire had actually done very little with his life.

Oh, he'd seen countless planets, countless races of beings; he'd fought on both sides of this pointless little squabble between the Decepticons and the Autobots; he'd slumbered on while civilizations and species rose and fell; he'd chased after whispers and thoughts in search of the Matrix; and he'd watched a million lives start and end. But, after it all, there was very little worth in the things he'd done.

Searching, searching, searching. That was all he'd ever done. Never had enough time to stop and enjoy things, to appreciate them, to see why life was worth living. No, he was constantly searching. For the Matrix; everything was for the Matrix. That was his purpose, what he'd been created for.

And he was tired of it.

All his life he had searched, and here, now, he had finally accomplished his mission. Through the efforts of a small organic, true, but, after all these millennia, his goal was accomplished. The Matrix had been found.

And for what? So that the Fallen could use it to wipe out another world? To doom these curious little fleshlings to death and darkness?

He had finally achieved his purpose, finally found that for which he had sought so long and so relentlessly, and he couldn't help but feel cheated, empty.

_This _was what he had spent his whole life striving for?

What a waste.

And so, when the Fallen had taken the Matrix from the Prime (a Prime! A real, living Prime!), he had all but tripped over his own landing gear to offer his body for the Prime's use.

He was tired. He wanted this to end.

As he'd told the annoying adult fleshling, there was no worse torture, no greater agony, no worse hell than to sit back helplessly and watch yourself rust away into dust. What would that achieve anyways? A death that was just as meaningless as his life had been?

At least, he reflected as he plunged his hand into his torn-open chest and closed his claws around his ancient spark, at least this way his death would _mean _something. At least this way, he would have a swift, meaningful death. This way, he would _accomplish _something, something worthwhile. By sacrificing himself so that the Prime could take his body, he would help him defeat the Fallen and save this planet. An entire planet, countless species saved because he had given up his body for much needed parts.

As he ripped his spark free from the casing in which it had spent a countless number of years, Jetfire finally felt at peace.

No more searching. No more drive.

Now only peace, and worth.

He didn't mind dying. It wasn't like he'd had much left to live for anyway. And, unlike all these young bots today, he had enough sight and experience to be able to balance things out, to look upon a situation with complete objectiveness.

He would die a quick death, something he had feared he would never have, and, more importantly, he would _do _something with his death. Not everything he'd ever done would be completely worthless.

So if there was an afterlife for their kind, and he was asked if it was worth it, his answer would be a resounding yes.

It had definitely been worth it.


End file.
